Final Debt (Indebted 6)

I shivered, wrenching away from his touch. “You can keep your methods. I don’t want to know.”

Daniel gathered me close from behind, pressing his hips into my arse. “You’ll get your history lesson, same as always, Weaver. Once you’ve repaid the Third Debt tonight, you’ll be told what’s in store for you tomorrow.”

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

Jethro…

How far away are you?

A question flew into my head. I wanted to ignore it. It probably wasn’t wise to ask. But I was past censoring. “Why drag this out? Why not get it over with?”

Cut grinned. “Eager for a raping, my dear?”

I balled my hands. “Stop with the torment. I get it. You’re rich. You have power. I’ve lived with you for months. I know that already.”

Cut’s fingers tucked short hair behind my ear, fingering the strands he’d allowed Daniel to hack. “It’s a method of torture, Nila. Just like the history lessons inform you of your demise, the delay adds weight to what will happen.” Dropping his fingers from my hair, he clutched my hipbones, dragging me from Daniel’s clutches into his own.

Like father, like son.

I hated that both their erections pressed against me in a matter of seconds.

My heart lurched with sickness. I’d slept with Jethro willingly. I’d made Kestrel come as a thank-you gift for being so decent, and if I didn’t find a way to stop my future, I would become intimately acquainted with Daniel and Cut, too.

Four men.

Four Hawks.

One Weaver.

My stomach recoiled, threatening to evict the nothingness inside me.

“Let me go—”

“No.” Cut grabbed my nape.

Before I could squirm away, his mouth landed on mine.

Stop!

He’d kissed me before. Licked me. Touched me. But this was the first time he let down his guard and fully gave me a part of himself. His tongue fluttered over my tightly pressed lips. His goatee bristled my tender chin. His rough skin hinted at his age. And his impatience at getting me to respond unravelled his decorum.

His nostrils blew scalding air on my cheeks as he forced me to kiss him back.

I stood there unmoving. I didn’t open. I didn’t budge. He might be able to drag out my persecution, but he didn’t have the power to make me fear it.

His kiss suddenly switched from savage to sweet, peppering soft kisses on my lips.

For one tiny second, he wasn’t a monster. He projected a fantasy that he truly cared for me. That somewhere, deep inside his rotting chest, beat a heart that wasn’t pure evil.

But that was a lie. A terrible, terrible lie.

The worst one yet.

Yanking my mouth away from his, I spat at his feet. “Don’t ever do that again.”

He chuckled. “Oh, I’ll do more than that, Nila.” Slinking his arm around my waist, he smiled. “You taste just like your mother.”

“You’re a pig.”

“That’s your misconception. I’ll have great pleasure showing you otherwise.” His whisper tangled in my hair. “Tonight, you’ll want me just as much as she did. I give you my word on that.”

“No way in hell will I ever want you, you bastard.”

Chuckling again, he let me go. “We’ll see.” Snapping his fingers, he stalked to the exit. “Come, I want you to see what your mother saw on the eve of her final task. I want you to know how insignificant a human life, especially a Weaver life, is compared to all that we have.”

Daniel grabbed my elbow, guiding me from the tally room. “I suggest you enjoy your tour, Nila, because once it’s over, there’s a certain protocol that has to be followed here. Certain superstitions to be entertained, local spirits to appease.”

I ducked beneath a mildew covered beam. “What do you mean?”

Cut said, “He means that you’re more than just our bed companion tonight. You’re our sacrifice.”

I gasped.

What?

Tucking my hand into the crook of his arm, Daniel guided me toward the gaping black hole and the unknown world beyond. “Now, let’s go explore, shall we? Time to see below the earth…time to see where diamonds are born.”

Drumbeats.

Heartbeats.

Wingbeats.

It all melted into one as Cut guided me from the Jeep and back to the camp. My bones ached from the dampness of the mine. My clothes hung with icy humidity. And my mind couldn’t shed the tunnel of blackness where expensive stones were found.

How long had we been underground? Two hours? Three?

Either way, I’d seen enough of the birthplace of diamonds and never wanted to return. I couldn’t stop shivering, even as I thawed beneath the open skies. Fresh air fed my lungs, doing its best to eradicate the earthen soup found below the ground.

Cut had taken great pleasure in showing me catacombs where the first seam was found then scars where workers had pinched diamonds from the soil. He’d taken me in a wire-cage elevator to the furthest point in the mine. He’d shown me underground rivers, white-washed crosses on walls where cave-ins had claimed lives, and even skeletons of rats and vermin that’d stupidly decided to dig beside the workers.

The entire experience had ensured I loved my vocation even more. Material couldn’t kill me. Velour and calico couldn’t suffocate me.

I never wanted to go near a mine again.

However, I couldn’t stop fingering my collar, counting how many stones had been torn from their home. I’d expected the weight of the diamonds to grow heavier the longer I was in Almasi Kipanga. If anything, the necklace grew lighter. Almost as if the diamonds were of mixed decision. Half of them wanting to return to their beds of dust, and others happy to be in sunlight rather than perpetual darkness—regardless of the bloodshed they’d witnessed.